


Surprise Romantic Evenings Sometimes Don't Work Out

by AdviserOfImladris (orphan_account)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, and doesn't wake up, and erestor is embarrassed, and erestor is upset, and how will he even find out?, and the surprise is ruined because glorfindel passes out, and then glorfindel gets drunk, but doesn't tell anyone, elladan drugs glorfindel, elladan finds glorfindel and erestor, glorfindel has some very insinuating comments, how will glorfindel make it up?, later gildor comes to rivendell, so the surprise doesn't work, then the surprise is revealed but just to you, then they go to dinner, they're in a somwhat awkward embrace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AdviserOfImladris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Interesting things in Rivendell...conversations around the table...and Erestor is planning a surprise for his lover Glorfindel. However, Gildor has come for a short visit, and everyone knows that his antics with his friend Glorfindel are rather wild. How will Erestor's surprise work out when Glorfindel is dead drunk? Slash (m/m), but nothing explicit. Rated for suggestive content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise Romantic Evenings Sometimes Don't Work Out

In his defense, Elladan wouldn’t have noticed if someone hadn’t moaned when he walked past the darkened alcove. His curiosity aroused, he peered into the shadows and wasn’t even surprised to find two figures wrapped in a passionate embrace, the taller one’s head bent and their lips locked.

Elladan rolled his eyes. He might have made a rude remark, but they were his former tutors, after all, and he didn’t want to suffer the wrath of an enraged Chief Counselor. He settled for calling, “Anyone going past can hear you,” then he walked on, laughing silently to himself.

Behind him, Glorfindel reluctantly let Erestor loose and chuckled when his flushed mate gave him a frustrated look. “He is right, you know.”

“Rude elflings,” Erestor grumbled, and his golden-haired lover simply laughed, his desire no less fierce, but abated somewhat at the interruption. “They’re not elflings anymore, love.”

“You’d better beware,” warned Erestor with a slight smile coming to his dark eyes. He slipped his hand into Glorfindel’s and they walked together to the edge of the recess, still in the shadows. “Those two are still trying to get back at you for that honey and feather prank.”

“Believe me, they would never get the best of me,” Glorfindel said smugly. Erestor gave a sardonic eye roll, showing his disbelief of that statement through a simple gesture.

“Ah, supper,” Glorfindel said, remembering that he was supposed to have arrived in the dining halls about twenty minutes ago.

“Oh,” said Erestor, but he sounded more disappointed than horrified that they would be late. Glorfindel squeezed his hand and grinned down at him. “Shall we head on to the ‘real’ food?”

“If I could but taste of your lips once more,” Erestor sighed dramatically, and Glorfindel laughed at his histrionics, then bent and pressed a chaste kiss to his pouting red mouth. He pulled back and Erestor sulked.

“Not like that.”

“Apologies, my love,” Glorfindel said acerbically, then stepped out of the alcove and Erestor went along with him, albeit a smidgen reluctant to leave the shadows where they had been exchanging just a little more than kissing. Neither was really one for public affection, but when the urge came…they might duck into a hidden room and deal with the problem. Erestor would only act like that around his lover, though.

“I shall grace you with my loving kisses after we eat,” Glorfindel said just as dramatically as Erestor had, then winked and added lewdly, “And not just on your lips either.”

“Glorfindel,” Erestor scolded, but he didn’t mean it and Glorfindel knew it. They entered the dining halls a few minutes later, hands entwined and talking in hushed voices. Glorfindel was grinning broadly, while Erestor looked as if he was trying to restrain a smirk. Parting unwillingly, Erestor sat to Elrond’s immediate left, while Glorfindel sat across from him, beside Celebrían. Elladan and Elrohir were a little further down the table, arguing animatedly with Arwen about how to properly ride a horse.

Glorfindel heard snatches of the twins’ and Arwen’s conversation, and he lowered his eyelids to stare seductively at Erestor, who seemed impassive, but Glorfindel could see the beginnings of a blush staining his neck. He knew exactly what Glorfindel was thinking.

“The best way to ride a horse,” Glorfindel interrupted Elladan’s fervent speech, “is, of course, bareback.”

The children of Elrond turned to look at him in mild confusion.

“What makes you say that?” Arwen asked, while at the same time Elrohir said, “But you ride Asfaloth with a saddle.”

“Not other mounts though,” Elladan muttered, and Erestor fixed him with a glare, under which he turned a bright red.

“Because,” said Glorfindel, ignoring his lover’s glower at Elladan, “because there is nothing to keep you from connecting your mount – the slightest movement of the leg muscles can interpret to him where you want him to go; what direction you want him to take. It allows for maximum control, while at the same time you can feel what he is going to do before he even does it.”

Elrond, who had been partially listening, raised an eyebrow. “Most impressive, Glorfindel. How came you by this information; and if this is so, why don’t you apply it to your own horse?”

“Oh, I already know exactly what Asfaloth is going to do. I don’t need to ride without a saddle on him.” Glorfindel flicked his gaze to Erestor, then sat back and smiled innocently. “However, other mounts are far more accommodating when there is nothing besides my weight astride them.”

“Is that so?” Erestor said, resisting the urge to throw something at his lover’s head. Celebrían’s eyebrow had arched delicately, mimicking Elrond’s.

“Of course,” Glorfindel agreed, purposely being vacuous. “Then again, sometime this particular mount enjoys it when there’s a saddle on –”

“All right, that’s enough,” Elrond interrupted, deciding not to let these two fill his lovely wife’s and daughter’s heads with images like the ones that were dancing in his own head.

“We did not need to know that,” Elladan and Elrohir were groaning, but Arwen was smiling secretively and she toed Elladan in the thigh with her deceptively painful boots, and he yelped.

“Okay, you’re right, bareback is better!” Elladan conceded, grumbling, then lowered his eyes and dug into his food, refusing to look at Glorfindel. Elrohir matched his movements.

Glorfindel smiled innocently. “But sometimes, when the mount is feeling particularly spirited, then you might be able to use a bridle and curb his –” He jumped when Erestor kicked him sharply, and then pouted. “What?”

Erestor sighed and began eating his own food, deciding to ignore his sulking lover for the time being. He could barely concentrate on anything happening, suspense building up inside his stomach and keeping him deliciously excited all throughout the day. He had been planning tonight for almost a month, hardly able to keep himself from blurting it out to Glorfindel.

The only person that knew of his plan was Elrond, and that was only because he had needed his help to get the specially scented candles that he was going to use. Other than that…Erestor didn’t feel like Celebrían or Arwen should know – though they obviously were aware of his blatant relationship with Glorfindel, they didn’t need to know the specifics of what the two did. Elrohir and Elladan, meanwhile, were terrible at keeping secrets from their former instructor and would probably reveal it as soon as he looked at them.

“…so I was thinking that we could move it to the day after tomorrow,” Elrond was saying, and Erestor realized belatedly that he hadn’t been listening at all as the Lord of Imladris was talking to him. He felt a flush creeping into his cheeks, but banished it and turned his attention to Elrond. “Pardon me, my mind wandered,” he said smoothly. Elrond grinned knowingly and began his sentence again.

“I was saying that perhaps we could move that meeting about the new bridge on the West side could wait until the day after tomorrow,” Elrond said, and his eyes urged Erestor to understand. The adviser, of course, got the meaning instantly. Elrond knew that he and Glorfindel would stay up into the early hours of the morning, and despite their best intentions, would sleep in late and probably engage in the same activities when they woke up as well.

“That will work,” Erestor said politely, and made a mental note to mention that to his assistant Saelbeth at some time.

“Oh!” Elrohir suddenly said, his embarrassment having faded in the last few minutes. “Erestor, did you tell Adar that the Wandering Company arrived a few hours ago?”

“That seems to have slipped my mind,” Erestor said, grumbling inside at his lack of attention, and turned to Elrond. “Gildor and about two dozen of his Company arrived three hours ago, and are currently residing in the East Wing,” he remarked easily, and Elrond nodded.

“They were invited to tonight’s celebrations in the Hall of Fire, I presume?”

“You presume correctly,” Erestor said, hoping desperately that Glorfindel would take the bait. He did only a moment later, his deep indigo eyes lighting up at the mention of his old friend.

“Gildor is here?”

“Indeed,” said Erestor. “You will have to visit with him and tell me about the latest news tonight.”

“You’re not going?” Even though he had known Erestor wouldn’t go – he never did – Glorfindel was still disappointed. He had so dearly wanted to introduce the cool adviser to his longtime friend and perhaps the two would become more than mere acquaintances.

“No, I’m sorry, meleth.” Erestor sounded appropriately apologetic. “I have quite a bit of work to do, and must finish it tonight. I probably won’t be back in our chambers by the time you get there.” There, the plan was officially set in motion; now Glorfindel just had to go along with it!

“Well…I guess I could go ahead and talk with him,” said Glorfindel, sounding ever-so-slightly annoyed, but mostly disheartened that he wouldn’t get to demonstrate his bareback-riding abilities tonight. “But you’ve got to come to the Hall of Fire at some time!”

“I will,” said Erestor, as he always did when Glorfindel said that. He never could make it there, as something always managed to come up that kept him from going there with Glorfindel.

“In other news,” Elrond said, pausing the bite of food he had been raising to his lips, “Elrohir is going to begin his formal education in the healing arts next week – tutored by yours truly.” He attempted a bow, which looked absolutely ridiculous because he was sitting, and because he was…the Lord of Imladris. It was just odd.

“Adar,” grumbled Elrohir, dropping his head in his hands when Glorfindel and Erestor both looked at him and smiled. “You didn’t have to say it quite like that.”

“Congratulations, Elrohir,” Erestor praised, smiling around the swallow of wine he had just taken. “I’m sure you will do very well.”

“Yes, just don’t stitch up the wrong wound next time,” Glorfindel muttered, and was rewarded by another kick in the leg. “Ow!” He fixed Erestor with a sulky pout, and Elrond rolled his eyes at the couple’s antics.

“Find a room,” Elladan said, and Arwen gave him a scandalized look. “Excuse you,” she said, pretending to be offended at the insinuation.

“Oh, by the way,” Elladan said, ignoring his sister and deciding to bring the attention back on Elrohir. “How is your courting of Lindir going, brother?”

Elrohir sighed deeply. “It’s like he doesn’t even realize I’m interested in him. I’ve asked him on walks in the garden, I’ve brought him flowers, I’ve even –”

“Well, he isn’t a female,” Celebrían said smoothly, and her youngest son gave her a confused look. “I know, Nana, that’s kind of why I’m…um, trying to get him notice me.”

“Oh, never mind,” said Celebrían with a tinkle of a laugh, and decided to let him figure it out on his own.

“Ah!” exclaimed Erestor suddenly, pushing his chair back and standing to his feet. “Is it seven already? I must get to my office.” He patted his pocket with a slight frown, then his face cleared and he pulled out a small envelope. Handing it to Elrond, he slid his chair back in and prepared to leave, but was stopped by a muscular body that had just went around the table to his side.

Glorfindel pulled Erestor a few yards away from the table, barely out of earshot of the Peredhil family, and looked down into his lover’s rich brown eyes that blinked up at him warmly. “I’ll probably be late,” he murmured, “but I promise to be back by at least eleven tonight. Is that good?”

“Wonderful,” Erestor said with a smile. “I might be there later, but if not, I’ll –”

“Mm, no,” Glorfindel said, cutting off the other’s protests. “You always get up early, and I want you to get some sleep tonight for once, okay?”

Erestor knew perfectly well that he had the next day off and could sleep in as long as he wanted, but that was a surprise, so he nodded. “Very well. And the same for you.”

“Excellent,” Glorfindel agreed, and bent down to press his lips to Erestor’s. He meant it to be short and sweet, but somehow Erestor tilted his head and drew him down further, his tongue darting out mischievously to lick at Glorfindel’s lower lip. Glorfindel hummed in appreciation and his hands found their way to Erestor’s backside, where he kneaded the perfect mounds beneath the black robes. Erestor moaned, arching up, and opened his lips to let Glorfindel find every nook and cranny in his luscious mouth, returning the favor as tongues and lips slicked together deliciously.

They were interrupted rather rudely by an eating utensil bouncing off Glorfindel’s shoulder. Glorfindel rebelliously devoured Erestor’s mouth for a few moments more, then released his crimson lips and turned his head to glare at Elladan.

The elder twin didn’t look the least apologetic. “That’s kinda gross, and you’re doing it right in front of us,” he said.

“You didn’t think it was gross when you were doing it to Saelbeth,” Elrohir said with a snicker, and Erestor glared.

“You were kissing my assistant?”

“Now, now,” interrupted Glorfindel, detaching himself from his lover’s grip and smiling at him. “I’m sure Saelbeth can take care of himself. Weren’t you panicking about being late just a moment ago?”

“Oh, yes,” Erestor hastily agreed, glancing out the window and casting one last angry look at Elladan. He crooked his finger and Glorfindel and the warrior complied, leaning down. Pressing a quick kiss to Glorfindel’s lips, Erestor turned and left the room, accompanied by a swift pat to the rear from Glorfindel.

Glorfindel chuckled and sat down back in his seat. He began eating again, but then shot Elladan a cautious look. “Do be careful with Saelbeth,” he advised. “Erestor is quite protective of the youngling.”

“Youngling?” Elladan said incredulously. “He’s almost eight hundred!”

Glorfindel shrugged. “Still young compared to me and Erestor.”

“How old is Erestor, anyway?” Elrohir inquired, but Glorfindel just smiled secretively and continued eating.

“” “” “”

“Is it done now?” Erestor asked, trying to lean over and look in the pot above the fire, but a sharp smack to his shoulder made him pull back. The master cook frowned and clucked her tongue, flicking the towel she had just used to hit him.

“It’ll be done when it’s good and ready,” she said. “And if you get any closer, you’re going to singe your nose. Step back.”

“What if it’s not…perfect,” Erestor fretted, which was unlike his usual calm self, and twisting his hands together behind his back. “It needs to be just like Glorfindel loves it.”

The cook looked affronted. “Are you questioning my baking skills, Counselor?”

“No, no,” Erestor hastily said, stepping back and letting her stir the steaming broth. “I’m just worried,” he admitted. “I’ve never done this before for Glorfindel. What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Oh, you silly thing,” she chuckled, bending down to sniff at the soup, then stirring it some more. “When has that infatuated lover of yours ever not liked something you did? And that doesn’t include staying up past midnight working, or sending him on an especially long patrol,” she added with a wink.

“I suppose you’re right,” Erestor conceded with a slight smile. He tucked back a loose strand of dark hair that had fallen loose and watched her preparations with lessening anxiety.

“When am I not?” She smiled, then reached for a container of seasoning and sprinkled a little in the pot. “Now, why don’t you go get everything else ready and I’ll send someone to tell you when this is done, hm?”

“That’s…a good idea,” Erestor said, and turned to head for the large swinging doors of the kitchen. More cooks and maids were scurrying about, doing their work, but he didn’t really notice them, and they didn’t talk to him.

“Oh!” he said, turning to face her suddenly. “Don’t forget the –”

“Black rye bread?” the cook said with a quirked eyebrow, and Erestor chuckled.

“Yes…that. Sorry. I’m getting a little nervous.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” she said, and then made a shooing gesture. “Now go on, get the rest of your things done.”

He laughed and moved away, heading through the halls to his office after leaving the kitchens. Inside his office he found Saelbeth, his young assistant copying a formal letter that was to be sent to the edain rulers in the surrounding villages.

The youngling looked up when he entered, normally unruly chocolate brown hair pulled back into loose braids and silver eyes glimmering. “I’ve finished typing up those reports,” he said as Erestor slid the door shut. “And the messenger came with a letter from the Greenwood that Lord Elrond is to reply to within three weeks, or the answer will be assumed as a ‘yes.’ Next week’s rations have been sent out to the patrols on the outer border, and Sílwen says that his area has been clear lately, no trouble to be spotted.”

“Excellent,” Erestor said simply, moving across the room to ruffle through a drawer full of half-written papers. He picked one out and frowned at it. “Make a note, if you will – Lord Elrond wants the meeting on the details for the bridge to be delayed until the day after tomorrow, instead of tomorrow evening. Has Lord Círdan sent that shipment of wild-caught fish yet?”

“It’s on its way, two weeks from the Shire on this side,” Saelbeth replied promptly, and bent his head to write a few more careful words, then looked up sharply. “Aren’t you supposed to be preparing for…um, tonight? You told me that –”

“Ah…yes,” said Erestor weakly. “I just wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly.”

“I promise that I can take care of it for one day,” Saelbeth said with a parting of soft pink lips, revealing flashing white teeth as he grinned. “I might have some help as well. I know you told me not to tell Elladan or Elrohir about tonight – and I haven’t – but I asked Elladan to help me bring those heavy books back to the library tomorrow morning and he said he would.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t be carrying those by yourself,” Erestor agreed automatically, then his dark eyes glinted and he turned back to Saelbeth. “Have you been…” he started carefully, but shook his head and re-worded it. “Has Elladan been bothering you?”

Saelbeth flushed ever-so-slightly and ducked his head back to the letter. “He’s not been bothering me, no,” he said in a not-quite positive voice.

“He is a rapacious flirt and at the moment, has not even the slightest inclination to stay with one lover,” Erestor said firmly, deciding just to say it and get it over with. “You shouldn’t get involved with him.”

The assistant’s head came up, silver eyes flashing. “You think that I can’t protect myself?”

“No,” Erestor said, wondering how exactly to put this. “He…he’s wilder than his younger siblings. He doesn’t like the idea of being ‘tied down’ in a relationship.” Erestor hesitated. “I just don’t want to see you hurt,” he said finally, resisting a sigh.

“Thank you for your concern,” said Saelbeth somewhat stiffly. “But I think that I can decide whether or not I even want to be in a ‘relationship’ right now.”

“I…see,” Erestor said after a long moment, then pushed the half-written letter back in the drawer and slid it shut. “Well, I’d better go prepare my chambers.”

Saelbeth smiled reluctantly, recalling his employer’s nervousness about the whole idea he was going to implement. “Yes, you probably should. No!” he added, raising a hand when it looked like Erestor was about to say something. “I’ve got it here. You go ahead and have…fun.”

Erestor released a breathy laugh, then smiled and headed for the door.

“” “” “”

“I think…it is ready,” Erestor said hesitantly to himself, glancing around his bedchambers that were soft and glowing now that he had finished his preparations. It was almost eleven, judging by the position of the moon shining gently in through the shimmering curtains over the windows, and Glorfindel would be here any moment.

The room was enchanting; Erestor had to admit to himself. If he hadn’t done it himself, he would never have believed that he would be able to make the usually dry-looking quarters seem so inviting and warm. There were candles everywhere, in nooks and crannies on the walls, on bookshelves, on the mantel above the fireplace, on the window seats – but not on the bed, since he knew it would be used and didn’t really want to have hot wax interrupt anything. There was no other light in the room besides those flickering red candles and the moonbeams, though the fireplace had a small fire going in it.

The bed was draped with new and spicy-smelling sheets, the covers turned down for easy access. Furs lay piled up beside the fireplace, in case they wanted to curl up there, and there was a small table for two in front of the window seat, piled with delicacies, fruits, and pastries – all of which were Glorfindel’s favorites. The cook had indeed finished that soup, and brought it, along with everything else, about twenty minutes ago. The room smelled of wild jasmine, also one of Glorfindel’s favorite scents, but something sweet lingered in the air.

And then, of course, the bathroom was readied as well. The large tub was full of steaming hot water, oils and soaps resting within easy reach. Towels, placed on the wall that was on the other side of the fireplace in the bedchambers, were kept warm and soft because of the heat. The floor was covered with a fluffy rug made from the fur of a bear found close to Imladris. Erestor had been saving that for a few months now, waiting until the day he could use it.

Admittedly, Erestor didn’t know what they would do first when Glorfindel got here, but he was hoping to eat, then they could bathe, and then…more stimulating exercises would follow. If not, then he wouldn’t mind. This night was for Glorfindel’s pleasure, and he would do anything his lover wished.

Of course, Erestor might have helped matters along by adding a few things to his appearance. He knew very well one thing that enhanced his features, and that was the color red. Therefore, he had acquired a deep crimson robe from the market a few weeks past, and had it altered to fit his body perfectly. It was made of a material that felt like silk, but was much hardier and had no chance of tearing – which might frustrate Glorfindel a little if he wished the item to be removed quickly. Erestor had thought of that, though, and had made sure of a few things.

The robe was a smooth and silky red, molding to Erestor’s form perfectly and accentuating his snow-white features, his ruby-red lips, his tapered waist, and the plump curve of his buttocks. There were no buttons or laces that held it on, but only a simple sash that wrapped around his waist and held it snugly to him. It was bound to please Glorfindel, which was the only reason he had gotten it. He wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it at any other time.

And then there were the other things he had added. A fine-scented jasmine oil, rubbed lightly over his torso and neck, then on his legs and lower chest. He had been tempted to go ahead and prepare his opening for breaching, but he knew Glorfindel loved to do that himself, so left it as it was. There was also the delicate chain necklace Glorfindel had given him, with a tiny golden flower pendant at the end, and he had worn that as well. The final touch, however, was the one thing that had frustrated him to no ends applying it, but had finally managed it.

His deep chocolate eyes were lined with dark kohl, making them wider and causing the exotic slant of his eyes to stand out even more. Completed with pouting red lips, a perfectly-set button of a nose, and a waterfall of shimmering silky ebony tresses, Erestor was the picture of striking eroticism. He planned on using that for Glorfindel’s pleasure tonight, for sure.

Satisfied with the preparations of the room and himself, Erestor allowed himself a small smile and moved into the front room to wait in a plump chair near the door. Seating himself, he folded his legs elegantly underneath him and arranged his arms just so, creating a gorgeous image that was sure to strike Glorfindel as soon as he walked in. And there he waited, nervous with anticipation and desperately hoping that Glorfindel would be pleased.

“” “” “”

Gildor was, perhaps, more than a little drunk. No – he was certainly drunk. He didn’t mind, though, because all of his companions were enormously inebriated as well. Glorfindel, probably the least, but even the Balrog-slayer was stumbling over his words and laughing uproariously at every foolish joke and remark that passed from anyone’s lips.

Raising another glass of rich wine to his lips, Gildor tilted his head back and gulped the whole thing down, then almost choked on it when he started laughing again at a bawdy joke Elladan blurted out.

It was very likely none of them were going to make it out of the Hall of Fire tonight, but would probably just all fall asleep on the floor. After all, it had been a long time since Gildor had been in Imladris – almost a century. Catching up on the latest gossip had taken about four hours, helped along by a few glasses of wine. Then they had just started drinking in earnest, prodded on by Elladan and Elrohir’s urging for a drinking competition. Most of the other occupants of the Hall had left a while ago, and the musicians were leaving as well.

“Where did Lindir go?” Elrohir wondered, just sipping at his own drink. Unlike the others, he hadn’t drunk quite so much, and was still a little sober.

“There,” said Elladan, and giggled as he pointed, though there was no reason besides the fact he was completely and utterly drunk. The elf he pointed at was packing his instrument away, his glossy white hair pulled back in a five-strand braid that brushed his waist.

“I shall escort him to his rooms,” Elrohir offered gallantly, standing to his feet and swaying as he started across the room, his drink sloshing in his hand.

“Ah, the romantic infatuations of the young,” Glorfindel chortled, and lifted a full bottle of wine to his lips.

“Are you sure you should be drinking that whole thing?” Gildor asked, not really caring.

“Dunno, ‘s not like it matters,” Glorfindel slurred, and gulped down a few mouthfuls. Elladan leaned sloppily across the table.

“I’m all out; can I have some of yours?”

“Meh.” Glorfindel pushed his bottle into Elladan’s hands, then stretched, his chair creaking under his weight. “Y’know, I should probably be gettin’ back soon, ‘Restor’ll be waiting, even though I told him not to.”

“I never got to meet this ‘Restor you keep going on and on about,” Gildor grumbled, studying his mostly-empty glass with the half-glare of the drunk.

“He doesn’t like meeting new people,” Glorfindel offered, and Gildor leaned floppily to smack him in the shoulder, which caused them both to burst into rolls of laughter. Neither noticed Elladan slyly eyeing them, then pulling a phial from his tunic pocket and dripping a little in the wine bottle he had borrowed from Glorfindel. Sniffing it, he nodded in satisfaction, then affected a casual grin and pushed it across the table toward Glorfindel.

“Here, just finish this and you can go,” Gildor said affably, shoving the wine bottle into Glorfindel’s hand, then slurping the rest of his own drink.

“Okay,” agreed Glorfindel, lifting it haphazardly to his lips and guzzling down half the bottle in one breath. “Whoa,” he gasped when he paused. “This tasted different than it did a minute ago.”

Elladan tensed, wondering if Glorfindel was going to see through it and know what the odd taste really was. Apparently he didn’t, for he shrugged and tossed the rest of it down, then burped loud and long, which caused Gildor to snort into his drink.

“All right, now I’d better go,” Glorfindel said. “’Restor might still be working – have to…” he was broken off by a long yawn that stretched his jaw wide, then he continued with a hazy look in his indigo eyes, “have to check on him and make ‘im sleep.”

“I heard that you two rut like rabbits at every opportunity,” Gildor said, and Elladan chortled, falling back in his chair as laughter overcame him.

“That’s…not true,” Glorfindel protested, and yawned again. “Got t’ go,” he mumbled, starting to rise from his chair, but never made it. He toppled sideways, the chair smashing beneath him, and hit the floor. He lay there for a long moment, then groaned and stirred before falling silent, his eyes glazing into a comfortable sleep.

“Well, damn,” commented Gildor, staring down at his unconscious companion, and then he burst into laughter.

“” “” “”

Erestor came awake with a start, his head jerking up from where it had drifted down to rest on his chest. He realized belatedly that he had fallen asleep, and cursed himself soundly for a moment before seeing the moonbeams that drifted into the room. They were fading, much paler than they were…whenever he had last looked. Casting a look out the single window in the front room, Erestor was shocked to see that the moon had already floated halfway across the sky.

Where was Glorfindel? It had been three hours since he sat down here, and Glorfindel had said he would be back at eleven. Erestor knew that it might take a little longer, since Glorfindel had to catch up with old friends, but he had promised, and he never went back against his word. But it was already two in the morning!

When he heard a clatter in the hallway just outside the door, Erestor realized what it was that had woken him. There was the steady shuffle of two pair of feet, accompanied by something dragging with them. They stopped outside his door, then a knock came, and Erestor wondered who it was. Glorfindel wouldn’t bother to knock.

Rising unsteadily from his chair that had become increasingly uncomfortable over the past few hours, Erestor moved quietly to the door and opened it.

Three figures were just outside, two supporting a slumped one in the middle. The person on the elf was Elladan, his eyes distant and little huffs escaping him as he struggled to hold up the elf between him and…Erestor flicked his eyes to the other elf holding the middle one up, and faintly recognized him.

He had silver-gold hair cropped just past his shoulder blades, wine-hazed dark grey eyes, and a muscular figure. Ah, this was Gildor, then. Turning his gaze to the unconscious figure they were supporting, Erestor was shocked to see that it was Glorfindel. His lover was held by his arms around the others’ shoulders, his head slumped and golden hair spilling limply around him. His glazed blue eyes stared unseeingly at the floor, and Erestor drew in a sharp breath, stepping back.

Elladan and Gildor seemed to take that as an invitation, moving into the front room and looking around for somewhere to drop Glorfindel.

Erestor let his mind fall blank and motioned toward the door to his bedchambers, his face devoid of expression and choosing not to ask questions. “In there.”

They complied, dragging the insensible Balrog-slayer with them. Erestor, slipping into the room behind them, found that the room was utterly dark except for the slight moonbeams that slipped through the curtains. The fire in the hearth had died, but Erestor moved his mind from thinking about it and pointed at the turned-down bed. Elladan caught his motion and stumbled toward it, inadvertently pulling Gildor along with him. In a single motion, then tossed the rather-heavy Glorfindel onto the soft bed, and then turned precariously to Erestor.

“Out,” was all Erestor said, jabbing his forefinger, and accompanied them to the door that led out into the hallway. He waited until they were in the corridor, then inclined his head slightly. “Thank you for bringing him back.” He didn’t realize the sight he made, with the light from the torches in the hall shining on his midnight-black hair and shadowing his kohl-lined eyes. The red robe he wore bared his pale neckline for all to see, and drew attention to his red lips and the perfect curve of his rear.

Gildor, even almost drunk to the point of insensibility, still managed to speak, realizing then why exactly Glorfindel found the darkling elf so infatuating. “You look absolutely ravishing,” he purred, wine-breath blowing in Erestor’s face, and Elladan giggled beside him.

“At least someone will notice,” Erestor said, not amused by the Wanderer’s attempt at flirting, and shut the door in his face. He stood there for a moment longer, then sighed and went back to his bedchambers.

Not daring to even look at his lover’s reposed form on the bed; Erestor went into the bathing chambers and stared mournfully at the water, now cold to the touch. The fire in the other room had gone out, so the towels up against the wall were no longer warm. He scooped up the oils and the soaps he had so carefully prepared, and then pushed them onto a shelf beside the towels, not caring if they were unorganized. After letting the icy water drain out of the bathtub, he went quietly back into the bedchambers and proceeded to undo everything he had planned.

The un-eaten food was piled onto a small cart and pushed into a hallway for the maids to find, the curtains drawn back and windows opened halfway to let the jasmine-scented air escape. He gathered the many jasmine-scented candles around the room; all melted down to stubs now, and dropped them all in the bin he used for trash. The rug in the bathroom and the furs beside the fireplace he folded haphazardly then pushed them under the bed out of sight.

When that was all done, Erestor stood silently beside the fireplace, jabbing at the fading embers with the poker, mentally and fiercely berating himself. He should have known that this would happen! Glorfindel was never an elf to…remain sober, like Erestor always was. Especially not when meeting his old friend again after almost a hundred years! Cursing himself for his severe lack of foresight, and the utterly failed evening, Erestor let the metal stick fall to the hearth and padded inaudibly to the bed.

Stopping next to the dresser beside the bed, Erestor picked up the cloth he had put there only a few hours before and wiped away the kohl lining his eyes. He was disgusted with himself when he found that the washcloth held liquid as well as the dark powder, obviously tears from his weakness. Stiffening his expression and finishing cleaning his face, he put the cloth back in the water-filled basin on the dresser.

After a moment’s thought, he untied the sash at his waist and shrugged the crimson robe from his shoulders, a recollected hope of a different situation flashing in his mind. He decided to think no more on it, but caught the robe and folded it carefully, knowing he would never wear it again. He crouched and put it in the bottom drawer of the dresser, shoving it to the very back where he knew Glorfindel would never look.

Then he used the dampened cloth again, washing away all remnants of scented oil from his skin, along with the anticipation of that night. Feeling too tired to do any more after that, he dropped the washcloth back into the water and climbed wordlessly onto the bed. It dipped only a little under his weight, but there was a deep indent where Glorfindel lay sprawled on the bed, fully dressed.

Knowing he should be kind and undress his lover, but really not feeling like it, Erestor lay on his side facing away from Glorfindel and curled around his pillow, traitorous tears stinging his eyes as he had imagined this exhaustion to be from something else completely. The spicy scent of the bedsheets mixed with the stench of wine upon Glorfindel, and Erestor forced himself not to choke at the smell.

After another twenty minutes of lying still with Glorfindel heavy presence behind him, Erestor finally couldn’t be there anymore. He rose quietly, dressed in the first things he found in his wardrobe, and slipped out of the chambers.

“” “” “”

Glorfindel woke fuzzily to the surprising sensation of…nothing. No warm, soft body pressed up against his, any sweet scent lingering in his nostrils. He still felt exhausted, so he just laid there, his indigo eyes slowly regaining their focus. He was surprised that Erestor wasn’t squashed against his chest as he usually was, but surmised that he must have slept late and Erestor had gone to work. After all, he had gotten back late…hadn’t he? He couldn’t remember much of anything last night, except for chortling about jokes that had seemed funny at the time, the tangy sensation of wine sliding down his throat, and the ever-there presence of Gildor laughing beside him, speaking of things that didn’t make sense now.

Glorfindel stretched, feeling the last remnants of drowsiness fade away, and was startled to find that he was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday, his tunic and breeches feeling stiff and reeking of sweat and wine. Groaning, he wondered why he was still like this. Usually, if he ever came back like this, insensible and stinking, Erestor would pull the clothes off, unable to sleep with them smelling up the bed. Unsure exactly what that meant, Glorfindel shrugged it off and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

His legs swayed unsteadily and treacherously for a moment, but then regained their strength and he waited a cautious moment before moving across the room to his wardrobe. Opening it, he pulled out a fresh tunic, jerkin, and leggings, and dressed swiftly before tossing on a short cloak and tugging on a pair of boots. Combing through his hair quickly, he left it hanging loose and decided to head to the training fields before breakfast. Maybe he could see if Gildor was there.

Shutting the door to his chambers behind him, Glorfindel walked confidently down the corridor toward the west side of Imladris. He was confused when he passed a dark-haired female that he faintly recognized, and she gave him a fierce glower that he could still feel on his back when he kept going. Wondering what that had all been about, he ducked into another hallway and out of the building, going into the gardens behind the housing chambers and onto a tree-covered path that led to the barracks.

Going around a corner, he almost ran over someone, and jerked backwards in surprise, catching the other person by the arm so they wouldn’t fall from the impact.

“Oh, thank you, sorry,” the elf was mumbling, bending immediately to pick up a few papers that he had dropped. When he straightened, Glorfindel recognized him immediately as Erestor’s assistant, and apparently the other did as well, for his silver eyes widened.

“You,” Saelbeth spat, taking quite a few steps away and to the side to get him away from Glorfindel.

Glorfindel stopped, his head tilted to the side, and he gave the scribe a pensive look. “Yes…me. May I ask, what has you so angry at me?” As far as he could recall, the youngling had acted perfectly normal around him, and he couldn’t think of anything that would make him have a grudge.

Saelbeth muttered something furiously under his breath, then marched toward Glorfindel and shouldered past him to continue along the path, the move amusing because of the elf’s slighter build. “Heartless ass…” his words trailed off as he stomped away, and Glorfindel turned to watch him with a surprised look. He had never heard the smaller elf curse before, and never seen him so riled up.

Deciding to ask Erestor later what had annoyed Saelbeth so, he put the incident from his mind and continued to the training fields. He stopped at the small shack beside the first sparring area and got his favorite training sword, picking the best-suited scabbard and looping his belt through it. Sheathing his sword in it, he ducked out of the weapons shack and looked around. Seeing a glint of silver-gold hair, he headed toward the third sparring field.

He found Gildor there, leaning casually against a post as he watched two warriors spar, the first elf one of his wanderers. The swords they were fighting with clashed fiercely as they tried to break the other’s defenses; and Glorfindel wandered over to stand beside Gildor and watch the two as they pounded on each other’s weapons.

“Vaerë is pretty good for an archer,” Glorfindel commented, not really paying much attention as the one with slighter build ducked under the other’s swing and kicked out at his knee. The more muscular elf dodged the kick with barely a movement and whirled his sword to strike out at the first one’s side. It was blocked, and they continued the sparring, the first one stepping back to easily block the other’s ferocious movements.

“He is,” Gildor agreed, and brushed back a lock of the silvery-golden hair that had caught Glorfindel’s attention. He glanced over at Glorfindel and scowled fiercely.

“What?” Glorfindel said, wondering if Gildor was angry at him as Saelbeth and that other elf – ah! She was the cook! – had been.

“You are so unfair,” Gildor complained, his glare changing to a pout, which looked absolutely ridiculous on him.

“How?” said Glorfindel, confused.

“You wake up the morning after drinking over five bottles of old wine, and look fine,” Gildor grumbled. “I, however, looked like a Warg trampled me into the ground and chewed on me for a few minutes before letting me go.”

Glorfindel took in his friend’s glimmering hair and shining eyes, and he laughed. “You are absolutely ridiculous, mellon. You look fine.”

“Easy for you to say, you look perfect.”

“Why thank you,” Glorfindel said, batting golden eyelashes and spreading his hand over his chest.

Gildor rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the sparring elves. After a moment, he remarked, “I met Erestor last night. I can see why you are so smitten. He looked enchanting.”

Glorfindel’s eyes darkened, but he made no other motion of anger. He thought ruefully that he shouldn’t be angry that his friend was commenting about his lover’s beauty, but still…only Glorfindel was allowed to talk about that. Finally, he settled for a casual reply. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

Gildor shot him a disbelieving look. “You’ve never seen him waiting for you when you got back, blinking like he just woke up and dark eyes lined in some sort of kohl? It made his eyes pop, that’s for sure – he reminded me of one of my dancers.” He grinned rapaciously and Glorfindel resisted the urge to scowl at him.

“What are you talking about?” Glorfindel said, realizing he really didn’t know what Gildor was talking about. “He usually gets there after me.”

“Oh, I think Elladan drugged you. You passed out right on the floor, and we had to drag you back.”

“But I said I was going to be back at eleven!” exclaimed Glorfindel, frustrated and realizing now why he could barely remember what happened last night.

Gildor just shrugged. “You tried to leave at around eleven, but that’s when you toppled over and broke the chair. We may have just let you lie there for a while longer while we finished chatting.” He grinned, but Glorfindel wasn’t amused.

“I have to find Erestor,” he said, looking around the field as if that would lend him the sight of his dark-haired lover.

“What? But you just got out here!” Gildor straightened up and suddenly had to trot after Glorfindel as the warrior started determinedly toward the closest building. “And we haven’t done our sparring session, like we always do the morning after I get here.”

“I was going to challenge you,” Glorfindel shot over his shoulder, “but that was before you made me break my promise.”

“Break your promise?” called Gildor, trying to catch up. “What promise?”

Glorfindel stopped suddenly and turned to scowl at him. “I told Erestor I would be back by eleven, and I obviously wasn’t. He probably waited up like he always does, then fell asleep by the time you had gotten there, and you woke him up.”

Gildor had the feeling he was getting involved in what was going to be a lover’s quarrel. He stopped, holding his hands up and deciding to stay out here. “Fine, you go talk with your gorgeous lover, and I’ll wait out here…all by my lonesome.” He stuck out his lower lip and affected a sullen pout, which he dropped when Glorfindel huffed and turned his back.

“Have fun!” Gildor called after the golden warrior’s retreating back, then chuckled quietly to himself and turned back to the sparring elves.

Glorfindel was almost to Erestor’s study, where he knew his dark lover would be working at this time of day, when he was accosted by Lord Elrond.

The Peredhel stepped out of a room, scanning a small rolled parchment, then he looked up and saw Glorfindel. His eyes darkened perceptibly and he stepped swiftly in front of the Balrog-slayer. “My office, now,” he said tightly, and Glorfindel did as he said without questioning the order.

When they were both inside the room, Elrond kicked the door shut and turned to face Glorfindel, visibly glowering at him. “I would like to know why Erestor came to me at two in the morning and asked to sleep on our settee in the front room. Any explanation?” He propped his hands on his hips and scowled at Glorfindel accusingly. “You’d better have a good one.”

Glorfindel just stared, not knowing what in the world he was talking about, or what to reply to the odd accusation. Finally, he chose the most eloquent answer that came to mind. “What?”

“” “” “”

“I brought you some tea and biscuits,” Arwen said brightly, setting the tray on the desk beside Erestor. “In case you get hungry,” she added with a beaming smile.

Erestor tried to blink back the weariness that was weighing on his eyes and struggled to smile up at the cheery maiden. “Thank you, Arwen. Though I’m not much hungry, I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” She rested her hip on the desk and her expression sobered, looking at him seriously. “What happened last night? Or…this morning?”

“Why do you want to know? So you can feed the gossip chain?” Erestor snapped, and regretted it immediately when he saw Arwen’s face fall. “No, I’m sorry, penneth,” he said immediately, placing his hand over hers. “I’m just…” He sighed and wiped at his face with his other hand. “I’m in a bad mood. Ignore me, please.”

“It’s okay,” Arwen said sweetly. She plopped her chin on her hands and studied him critically. “Was it Glorfindel? Wait, no, I know it was Glorfindel, but…what did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” Erestor said, feeling a twinge of pain that he strangled efficiently. “I was just…you know those jasmine-scented candles I asked your father for?”

“Yes,” said Arwen, frowning at the change of subject.

“Ah, well, I was going to use those last night for…for…” Erestor hesitated, wondering how to broach the subject with a female.

“I know that it is Glorfindel’s most favorite smell in the world besides you, that’s what he said,” Arwen said with a grin. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Aww…” Her expression brightened. “You were going to do a romantic evening, like Adar sometimes prepares for; or Naneth does, and I help her with it. Oh, so that’s what Elladan was talking about, when he said he saw you last night. He has a terrible hangover, by the way,” she added with a grin that wasn’t too nice. “It’s our human blood, I think, since Glorfindel never seems to have one. But anyway, he said that you looked like one of those exotic dancers Gildor employs, and you were wearing a red robe.” Her voice became hushed. “Did you really?”

“Yes,” Erestor sighed. “But it didn’t exactly work out. I’m glad he didn’t see me in it, actually…” He didn’t finish his sentence, still wary of what to say around her, but completed it in his mind, ‘Because he would think me too forward or, even worse, would know that the look didn’t suit me and would be unimpressed, but choose not to say anything because he’s too nice. “Really, it was my fault. I should have known better than to use Gildor as a distraction while I prepared. Glorfindel always goes a little crazy when he catches up with old friends.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Arwen said with a gasp.

“No, he didn’t do anything. I actually…I haven’t seen him awake since last night at supper, since he was unconscious when Gildor and Elladan brought him to our chambers, and I left early this morning before he woke.”

“Very early this morning, if I recall correctly,” said Arwen, remembering the conversation with her mother.

“Yes, well…” Erestor shrugged and affected a smile, which he was too busy trying not to sulk to make properly. “I’m fine now, but thank you for the food. I should probably get back to work.”

“Okay,” Arwen agreed, ignoring the prompt for her to leave. She looked around the study, seeing the empty desk in the corner where Erestor’s assistant usually sat. “Where’s Saelbeth?”

“He’s delivering a message to the blacksmith – those new swords that he’s working on need to be finished two days early.” Erestor sighed and ran his hand over his face, then bent back to his work. Arwen looked as if she was about to say more, but then a considering look came over her face and she straightened up.

“Well, I’ll see you later, ‘Restor,” she said brightly, using her childhood nickname for the adviser. He smiled slightly and gave her a small wave, which she returned, then swept out of the room.

Arwen met a certain golden-haired warrior in the hallway. He looked absolutely dejected as he walked somewhat morosely toward Erestor’s study, and she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. After all, he hadn’t known about Erestor’s surprise.

“He’s in there,” she said, pointing at the door of the office. Fixing Glorfindel with a slight glare, she added, “And you’d better be nice.”

“Nice,” Glorfindel muttered to himself. He opened the door and peered hesitantly inside, and saw the dark head of his lover as he bent over his desk, scribbling away on parchment. Glorfindel stepped into the room, pulling the door shut behind him, and cleared his throat.

Erestor’s head snapped up immediately, and when he saw Glorfindel his brow creased, but then his expression cleared and he stood up, smiling. If Glorfindel hadn’t just had everything explained to him by Elrond, he would never have thought that anything was wrong. As it was, however, he could see the slightly red-rimmed eyes; the high-necked collars of his tunic; the loose robes that were meant to conceal his well-formed figure; and the somewhat askew braids in his ebony hair.

“Glorfindel!” Erestor called, squirming out of the tight space between desk and chair, and then striding across the floor to his golden lover. “What brings you here so early in the day?”

Glorfindel couldn’t help but notice that Erestor stopped a few feet from him, instead of the usual greeting – which was, as long as no one else was around, throwing his arms around Glorfindel’s neck and gracing him with a loving kiss. But now he was keeping a safe distance, as if he was afraid to come any closer.

There was no way of getting out of this, and if Erestor had been hurt, even if Glorfindel hadn’t meant for it to happen, he wouldn’t skirt around the issue. Deciding just to say it and get it in the open, Glorfindel took in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, meleth.”

Erestor’s smile wavered. “Sorry? For what?”

Glorfindel reached for Erestor and pulled him into an embrace, and was dismayed to find that the adviser stiffened in his arms, but relaxed a moment later. “I’m sorry for not thinking of you first,” he whispered, “and that I’ve been a ‘heartless ass’ again.”

Erestor, his face pressed by his own volition up against Glorfindel’s chest, murmured, “Just what are you talking about?”

“Last night,” said Glorfindel, getting a little frustrated that his lover was being so vacuous. “I went off cavorting with Gildor and the twins, and let Elladan drug me senseless in return for that prank I played on him a while back. I should have just come back and…” He hesitated, not knowing how to put it delicately.

Erestor huffed into his broad chest and pulled back, dark eyes glinting. Glorfindel couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or amusement. “You think I’m upset about that?”

“Well…what else would you be upset about?” Glorfindel retorted, and regretted it the instant after.

Erestor just rolled his eyes and turned away. “You’re always doing romantic things,” he said over his shoulder as he walked back to his desk. “I thought I would do something of the same, but it was my fault that I kept it a surprise. And Elladan’s for keeping you from coming back.” He picked up a quill and rolled it in his fingers, then circled around the desk to face Glorfindel again, a slight smile coming to his lips. “Well, it solves the problem of Elladan being ‘involved’ with Saelbeth, anyway. My assistant was furious when he found out Elladan had spoiled the ‘most perfect romantic night ever’ as he put it.”

“So…you’re not mad at me?” Glorfindel asked hesitantly.

Erestor shrugged and seated himself somewhat awkwardly. “Well, yes. You did go off cavorting with Gildor, as you said, and completely forgot about me.”

“I didn’t completely forget,” said Glorfindel in frustration. “I did say I was going to come back at eleven, and I planned on it, but that was when the drug Elladan used took effect.”

Erestor just looked up at him slowly, then lowered his head and started writing again. Glorfindel wondered if he should just start hitting his head on the floor – maybe that would get his lover to stop being so confusing and make sense!

“I don’t like kohl,” Erestor suddenly commented, dipping the tip of his quill in the inkpot and bringing it back to the parchment. “It smears and sticks in all the wrong places. It’s also very irritating to get in one’s eye.”

“How would you know?” Glorfindel asked, and then felt like smacking himself. Now what Gildor had said earlier made sense – Erestor must have put that on to enhance his features. “Ohh.”

“Yes. Oh.” Erestor didn’t look up this time, merely continued scribbling on the paper, his quill-tip scratching incessantly and annoyingly.

Glorfindel studied his lover’s pale features and black, black hair, and found he was suddenly speculating what Erestor would look like with the kohl lining his dark eyes. No wonder Gildor had been going on and on about how ‘enchanting’ Erestor was. Glorfindel had never thought of Erestor as anything but enchanting, yet it still annoyed him that others would see him ‘dressed up’ and comment on it. Especially since he hadn’t even seen it himself!

“You know…” started Glorfindel hesitantly, “I wouldn’t be averse to you doing it again…and possibly giving me a heads-up first. Now that you’ve said that, I really – really want to see how you would look.”

Erestor wrinkled his nose, a habit which Glorfindel thought was adorable. “But it’s so hard to put on that stuff,” he complained.

“I’ll help,” Glorfindel volunteered with a gleam in his deep blue eyes.

“No, it’s supposed to be a surprise,” said Erestor, and returned to his jotting. “And besides, you wouldn’t like it.”

Glorfindel glared for a long moment, then he turned and walked out. Erestor looked up in surprise, his brow creasing. “Glorfindel?”

No reply came, but the slamming of a door far down the corridor. Erestor slowly set down his quill and stood, the chair sliding silently on the carpeted floor. “Glorfindel,” he said cautiously, stepping out from behind the desk and leaving the list for medical supplies that really could be done a few days from now.

There was silence. Erestor paused and tilted his head, and then he heard the soft brush of feet against the floor. The next moment, Glorfindel appeared in the door again, his bulk filling up the doorway. His eyes were dark and blue like flames, and he held something small and cylindrical in his hand. He stepped just inside and kicked the door shut without looking at it, then reached behind and locked it.

Erestor took at step back at the predatory look that had just appeared on Glorfindel’s face. “What are you –” He cut himself off when Glorfindel started toward him, golden hair falling around him in waves. Stepping back, he felt his hip strike the desk and he couldn’t go any further away. Glorfindel kept walking, stopping in front of him and towering over him, his very posture suggesting the stance of some dangerous wild cat.

Erestor might have been afraid, if he hadn’t known that his lover would never willingly hurt him. He couldn’t help drawing away when Glorfindel reached for him, but then the warrior smiled and broke the air of tension in the air. Reassured – at least a little – Erestor let Glorfindel catch his chin in a strong hand and tilt his head up to meet his gaze.

Those indigo eyes held the promises of wildest passion that he could ever know, and yet they were apologetic and asking him for permission. Erestor thought back on all that had happened, the mistakes that had been last night, and he pulled up all of those emotions and shattered them, spinning them away into nothingness. Then he let a small smile cross his face and rocked his weight forward, giving his forgiveness and offering his lips to Glorfindel.

Relief skittered across Glorfindel’s face, and then he bent to avidly capture Erestor’s mouth with his own, pulling those supple lips open and devouring the distinct flavor that was Erestor’s. His arms moved, wrapping around Erestor and pulling him closer, but the container he had gotten was still clutched in one hand. He could feel Erestor returning the embrace, twining his arms about Glorfindel’s neck and drawing him closer, and tilting his head to give them both better access to the recesses of each other’s mouths. It was a soft kiss, without the usual warring of tongues and clashing teeth, but with gentle nips and the tender plundering of luscious lips.

All too soon it had ended, and they drew apart for need of air. Both were rather flushed, and could feel each other’s desire straining against the laces of their leggings. Erestor’s was less obvious, as he had that heavy black robe on, but Glorfindel planned to solve that as quickly as possible.

Erestor, however, had no plans of letting Glorfindel take control just yet. He pressed a swift kiss to the golden warrior’s jaw line, then stepped back and unlaced the top of his robe. Sun-tanned hands wrapped around his and he looked up into smiling blue eyes. Glorfindel curled his fingers around Erestor’s and aided him in the untying of the robe.

“Never doubt,” Glorfindel whispered as Erestor caught the last clasp and the weighty robe fell from his shoulders, “that I love you.”

Erestor ran his fingers up Glorfindel’s chest, beginning to pull loose the laces holding his shirt together, and he smiled. “I won’t,” he said, and then pulled Glorfindel down for another long kiss.


End file.
